MHM Day-The Best Holiday You Never Knew About

Happy Menstrual Hygiene Management Day! Bet you didn't know it was today! Apparently the UN declared May 28th to be MHM Day a year and a half ago. Who knew.

We woke up early and dressed in our Days for Girls bright orange and gathered with several other organizations that support menstruation at the Kampala YMCA. Then we marched to Parliament. Benji walked front and center holding one end of the banner that read, "Act on Menstruation without Hesitation!"behind him was the marching band and then a few hundred men, women, and children all gung ho about periods. It was great. Period.

Then Parliament welcomed us in to listen to/watch the speaker of the house sign a charter that will give funds for the construction of separate toilet facilities for boys and girls and faculty in schools. Also, proper water, soap, and toilet paper available to school girls. It also called for a end to the culture of silence and shame surrounding girls maturing.

Several schools were present and gave perfectly memorized speeches and poems about the struggles they face. My favorite went something like this (picture five teenage African girls, shorn heads, uniforms, bright smiles): "I am girl. Yes! I live, I struggle, I survive....menstruation is normal. Yes! Cherish the girl child." I love that. Cherish. 

There were also several school aged boys there, and one of them stood up and said "We men have a responsibility and obligation to protect the women of this nation." HELLO. Amen.

And maybe I stood up in front of all of them and demonstrated how to use the Days for Girls reusable kit. In American English. Benji filmed it but I am not posting it, so here's some pictures:

I love this guy more everyday

Nothing manlier than a pink Period shirt.

Olivia, Susan, Dorcus, Olivia

Just call me a First Aider

This is Immaculate and I love her

The circles are period wheels

Sharifa, Olivia, Immaculate, Susan, Olivia, Dorcus, Emma

Add caption

Just for my mom

Lira & Barlonyo

"There are three types of Ugandan food: Not tolerable, tolerable, and chapati." -Bethany

On Tuesday, we boarded a large, old, African bus and drove 6.5 hours north to Lira, a more rural city in Uganda. We went with Immaculate, our program director, and Olivia, the assistant Sewing Director.

Highlights of the bus trip included seeing a baboon cross the road and driving over the Nile river.
Lowlights included the fact that the seats were very (VERY) narrow, and the inappropriate African music videos that were loud and in our faces on the bus' small TV. After the music videos they switched to a movie that was entirely in Chinese.(?)

The bus would stop every hour or so and villagers waiting on the side of the road would rush to the windows and raise up baskets with mangoes, chapati, water, Fanta, and fried liver on a stick. The men would shout "Soda wata soda wata soda!"

Let me interject this message to write an ode to chapati: Dear chapati. Thank you for existing.
Chapati is actually an Indian food, kind of like a tortilla, made of water, flour, and oil. IT IS SO GOOD. Often they make an omelet type of thing with eggs, cabbage, and tomatoes and roll it in a chapati and call it Rolex (roll+eggs). I bought chapati and put peanut butter and jelly on it. You can buy chapati at this little stand near our home for 500 Ugandan shillings. It is saving my life. Yesterday we had rolex for breakfast and lunch. It's fine. There is not a ton of variety in Ugandan food, but chapati is sold on most street corners and I AM SO GRATEFUL.
($1 US is about 3000 UGX)

Anyway. We got to Lira around 7 in the evening and checked into a hotel which had!!!!! WARM SHOWERS. Praise. I was so happy. I don't care how hot it is outside, I love warm showers. Benji, on the other hand, wants cold even in Utah.

Wednesday we woke up and had spaghetti noodles for breakfast, which was the complimentary breakfast, and then we drove an hour out to Barlonyo. We were to train a group of villagers on how to make and sell the Days for Girls reusable feminine hygiene kits. They have a vocational and technical school there which was built to help these people, most of whom were orphaned during the massacre in 2004.

this is a long, mass grave

I love African villages and the African countryside. Mud and grass huts, people. Cows, goats, chickens, pigs, just roaming where they wish. Also, sunflowers. They were a little piece of something familiar growing on the side of the road.

All the women breastfeed unashamedly, and when they aren't feeding their babies they strap them to their backs. I found it funny that in America women spend $40+ dollars on baby wraps but these women just grab a blanket and tie the baby on. They are also all pregnant. I guess their babies are not much more than 9 months apart.

We taught the women (and 4 men!) how to sew the bag, the shield, and the liner. When they finished the shield they would bring it to Benji and I to put on the snaps/buttons. Whenever they approached us, they would bow and hand it to us. You could tell they felt honored that we were there, but we felt honored to behold them.

These are the sewing machines that you operate with your feet: no electricity

Filling out surveys for Benji's research

They were so gracious and shared their food with us, rice and beans and cabbage. They cook for the entire village at once in a massive pot over coals. They would feed us first, and then many of the village people were hesitant to sit with us. It is hard for me that wherever we go, people think we are wealthy and special because we are white.

One of the women walked up to me and said: "the baby is tired. You hold him while I work."

Let me interject again to write an ode to Immaculate because I adore her: she is a strong, confident, beautiful, faithful lady. She was raised in a small village near the border of Sudan and Uganda. Growing up her family experienced loss and sorrow from terrorism, and she told me that it is hard for her to go back to her village because the feelings and images come back to her. (She also told me there is 50% mental illness among children in Uganda because of wars and terrorism. It made me feel passionate about fixing that.)

Anyway, I was telling Immaculate that the people look at us and think we have money because of our skin, but they don't know we spent much money to come to Uganda (but I do want to acknowledge all the financial miracles and blessings we received), and we both quit our jobs to come and we have no jobs waiting for us when we return. She replied, "my pastor told me that what you sow, you will reap. I think you are sowing right now, so you will reap when you return home." She is also so, so passionate about helping girls get educated and empowered.

The people in the villages rely on each other, and also fight with each other. The first day of training they spent hours making their bags. The second day, a woman came back and said her bag had been stolen. So while she proceeded with the rest of the training, I sat in the corner with Benji and stitched her a new bag. I was honored to do it for her. 

She is holding the bag I finished

On our last day in Lira we went to this little internet cafe that makes "American" food. We bought a pizza and we were so excited!!!!!!! Needless to say, it fell into the tolerable category.

African rain that was so loud we had to pause the training

Dorcus braiding my hair. "Your hair is so slippery. One braid is enough."

On Friday we took another long bus ride home and were so grateful to see Emma and Dorcus again.

Until next time!

"Praise The Lord"

"It's not very often a police officer looks you straight in the eye and says, 'praise The Lord.'" -Benji

Benji and Emma

Today we went to church. It took two taxis and two hours to get there, but we went. Once we were there sitting down, our dear friend Emma informed us that he had spoken with the bishop and Benji and I would both be bearing our testimonies. Yay, more attention! :)

It was a youth Sunday in that ward, so several of the youth gave short talks/testimonies based off of topics from For the Strength of Youth. After several of the youth had shared their testimonies, a few women from the congregation started going up and bearing their testimonies. They weren't on the program and it wasn't a Fast Sunday. They just felt like it. We found that amusing.

This man served with Benji's cousin 10+ years ago in Kenya. He recognized the Lambson name.

Whenever someone stands at the pulpit, they start with "brothers and sisters good morning!" And then the congregation responds with, "good morning, brother!" Or "good morning, Sister!" I'm so grateful that although the customs and culture may be different, the gospel is the same, the hymns are the same, the Spirit is the same.

This is their monthly goal

One of the young men was giving this long, loud testimony/talk about debt. Some of his words were difficult for me to understand, but I already knew you should avoid "single debts" as he said. I was a little confused what he meant by group debts, but I thought maybe it was a Ugandan thing. Then I couldn't figure out why the congregation found personal finances so humorous. Finally it hit me: he was saying DATE not DEBT. African English does not sound quite the same to my American ears. :)

A cute family sat In front of us and they had a baby, which was totally the reason I chose to sit there. There are babies and children all over Uganda and I LOVE THEM. What is it about African babies?!

                                     
No one called us Muzungu at church. SO NICE. Its not a derogatory term, but I'm still a little wary of it. It is so important not to label people and to treat everyone with equality. Also, I think half the adults at church came and shook our hands and welcomed us. They called me "Sister Bethany" and I was even invited to speak next Sunday with the Relief Society. I politely informed them we will likely attend a ward closer to home.

There are four missionary companionships serving in that one ward. One of the sister missionaries was originally called to and served half of her mission in Sierra Leone before the Ebola evacuation. It was so fun to hear her and Benji chat back and forth about the members and the areas. She said she
called back at Christmas and many of the people she served with had died.

Sister Kipowla

                         

The woman teaching relief society said she really wanted us to learn to love ourselves. Then she wrote the steps to a successful life on the board:

Just remember. Love yoself.


After church Emma took us to lunch hosted by his friends Douglas and Yerus Kagame. Such faithful, lovely people. Their home was one small room, maybe ten feet by ten feet, with a bedroom attached. They fed us rice and beef and mangoes with orange soda. There was a beautiful picture of them smiling at their wedding and another of Yerus wearing a cap and gown. I asked her what she studied and she said nursing! We talked about nurse stuff for a while and I loved her. Then their baby woke up and I got to hold another African baby today. Success.

Riding the taxis home took extra long because the school term begins tomorrow and all the mothers were taking their children to school. Most Ugandan children attend boarding school, and some start as young as three years old, most at five. The children all have their heads shorn, even the girls. One young girl sat in front of me in the taxi. She snuck a peek at the white lady behind her and found me smiling, so she turned the rest of the way around and grinned. I seriously love girls. Girls rule the world.

The weather is getting hotter but life is getting easier. We are adjusting.

Boda Bodas

The back view of the taxis

Dang it.

Acclimating

Before I came, many people told me "oh don't worry, Uganda is much nicer than Sierra Leone or Liberia."

All I have to say at this point, is if Uganda is so much nicer than Benji's mission, what was his mission like?! I know it will get easier every day, but adjusting is hard.

Yesterday we went to town, which is a general term for the area where everything is busiest and most things are sold. It's not like New York. New York has sidewalks and cross walks and organized commerce. Uganda has no sidewalks. There are people selling things everywhere, and you walk wherever you can fit your foot. Uganda has no crosswalks. You cross the road as fast as you can, weaving in between busses and motorcycles and other people.

Town was overwhelming. We attract A LOT of attention. When we got home Benji said "I made mean faces at all the African men who we're staring at you." Then he demonstrated his face and puffed out his chest and flexed his arms and I laughed.

Little street children followed us, shouting "Muzungu!" And begging for money. I could maybe help one of them, or five of them, but I could never help them all. It's a heart wrenching and hopeless feeling. There was also a man, thin and emaciated, with no legs, sitting on a piece of cardboard begging. What can I do?

We rode the taxis which are really halfway between a bus and a van. They are supposed to hold 14 people but I counted 17. There are women with babies everywhere, some in arms and some strapped to their backs. They are having a "cold" spell in Uganda right now, and the babies are all bundled and have hats on. We take cold showers to cool off, because we are on the Equator after all.

I like being at home, in the office with the women who come to sew. Often they speak Luganda and Benji and I just exist around them, but they all speak English if we talk to them first. I mentioned that I want to get an African dress and three of them brought out a skirt and dressed me up and gave me advice about where I could go to get fabric. I love Susan especially. She is a member of the church and sings hymns under her breath while she's working. She talks about her son and daughter, and how she wants to go to the Temple someday. The closest temple to Uganda is in South Africa. We told her that in Utah, we can reach ten different temples within an hour.

We sleep with only a fitted sheet on top of us. We tuck our feet into the edges and the other elastic curves around our shoulders. I accidentally stole one of the blankets from the airplane and sometimes I use that and let Benji have the sheet to himself. It is too hot to use anything else, but luckily we have a fan.

I trust that eventually, I will love this place. I'm thankful for prayer. I'm thankful for opportunities and circumstances that urge me to pray so specifically.

Getting there is Half the Fun

Well, we're here!

We woke up at 5:30 a.m. in Utah on May 11th, and didn't go to bed until midnight May 12th in Uganda.

Salt Lake City>Chicago>Amsterdam>Rwanda>Uganda

-I know this blog is about Africa, but oh my word I am going to move to Holland. The airport in Amsterdam was enough to sell me for a lifetime. The bathroom stalls reached ALL the way to the ceiling and the floor! That is one of my dreams for the world is to have bathroom stalls like that! Also, tulips everywhere. And, stroopwafels.-

 Bathroom stalls

Also, endorsement for KLM Royal Dutch Airlines. Good food. Horrible flights, but that was due to the fact that they were not Lambson size seats. The food helped make it more bearable.

The first thing I noticed about Africa once I stepped off the plane was the smell. The closest thing I can compare it to is lettuce. Benji thought that was a weird description but I can't think of anything else. We had to declare that we didn't have Ebola and then they let us in. As we approached a group of people Benji said, "Do you smell that? It's African body odor." Definitely a different smell than ours, kind of spicy. I think it smells better than American B.O.

Ministry of health checkpoint

There was a crowd of people holding signs and waiting to pick up people from the flight. This beautiful African girl was holding a sign that said "Welcome Bethany and Benjamin." We waved at her and she jumped and ran around the rope and hugged us and promptly snatched my luggage out of my hands. Her name is Dorcas and she lives here with us.

She lead us to the car and we met our driver, Ebra (Abram?). Africans drive like you would expect them to drive. Lots of honking, swerving, yelling, disregard for lanes and pedestrians......we passed lots of burning piles of trash and it actually was a comforting smell because it smelled like my cabin in Idaho.

When we got to our home in Kampala (around 11 p.m.), the iron gate was locked. We honked and yelled and pounded, but no one came to let us in. So....Ebra climbed over the gate and helped us get in. We were so, so tired and barely stayed awake to eat the hot chocolate and bread and butter that Dorcas had made us before we fell asleep beneath our mosquito net.

Like I said, we didn't wake up until 3 p.m. There were several women in the office, busily sewing the menstrual kits. They teased Benji about how tall he is. Dorcas took us out to walk to the supermarket. Something about me being a disoriented white girl walking on the main road made her walk directly in front of me and Benji walk directly behind. We passed lots of beautiful little African children, who always grinned and waved and said "Muzungu!" which means 'white man'. I seriously want to bring them all home with me. I think whenever I feel afraid, I will think of the Ugandan children. They make me feel safe and welcome.

Later, we walked to the street market. Picture everything you've ever seen in the Amazing Race or Aladdin. Just mass amounts of people, all squished together, with food piled in pyramids around them. Dorcas told me that the people around us thought we were the stars of a local soap opera, and kept shouting their names at us.

So basically, we are here and we are safe. It is very hot and sweaty. I will take more pictures later. Hopefully we wake up at a normal time tomorrow and start getting some work done. :)

As the locals say: Waylaba (bye!)